Trust Me

nerd?” Tony gritted.
    Desdemona tossed aside her pen and leaped to her feet. “The next person who calls Stark a nerd gets fired, is that clear?”
    “Calm down, calm down.” Juliet waved her hands in a soothing motion. “No one’s out to insult your client. We’re just having a little trouble dealing with this, that’s all.”
    “Wainwrights always marry their own kind,” Bess announced in ominous tones.
    Desdemona rolled her eyes. “Who said anything about marriage?”
    A startled silence fell on the office. Three pairs of eyes regarded Desdemona with grave interest.
    “When did this affair actually begin?” Juliet asked delicately. “J mean, in the technical sense.”
    “That is a private matter,” Desdemona said.
    Tony’s eyes narrowed. “It was last night, wasn’t it? You started sleeping with him last night. That’s why you seemed different this morning.”
    “I said, it’s a private matter,” Desdemona snapped. “Now, if this inquisition is over, I really would like to get back to work.”
    Juliet put a hand to her brow. “My God. I see it all now. He seduced you after the ball. You were carried away by the glamorous setting, the tux, the music, the champagne. You lost your head.”
    “I did not lose my head,” Desdemona said. “I knew exactly what I was doing.”
    “I hope you took precautions,” Bess grumbled.
    “It was probably just a one-night stand for him,” Tony muttered.
    Desdemona lost her temper. “It was not a one-night stand.”
    “How can you be sure of that?” Juliet asked.
    “Because we’re going to be seeing each other on a regular basis,” Desdemona retorted.
    “Are you certain?” Bess asked.
    “Of course, I’m certain. He said he’d call today, in fact.”
    “Oh, Desdemona.” Juliet shook her head in a pitying manner. “You’re so naive sometimes. Don’t you know they always say they’ll call, and they never do?”
    The phone rang.
    Desdemona snatched the receiver out of the cradle, grateful for the interruption. “Right Touch Catering.”
    “Your first orgasm?” Stark asked without preamble.
    Desdemona collapsed into her chair. She fought to conceal a silly grin. “Why, yes. Yes, it was, as a matter of fact.”
    “Interesting,” Stark said.
    “I certainly thought so.”
    “So, do you want to do it again sometime?” Stark asked.
    Conscious of her audience, Desdemona twirled around in the swivel chair until she faced the back wall. She lowered her voice. “It’s considered tacky to ask a lady out just to have sex.”
    “I knew that,” Stark said. He cleared his throat. “Would you care to attend the theater with me?”
    “That sounds lovely. When?”
    “Tomorrow afternoon. The premiere of Monsters Under the Bed.”
    “I’d love to go with you,” Desdemona said demurely. “As it happens, I’m very fond of the theater.”
    The crash of her office door being slammed shut made her glance over her shoulder. She saw Tony striding past the window.
    He looked as if he was in a mood to do something violent.
    “What was that sound?” Stark asked.
    “Nothing important,” Desdemona assured him.

10

    Thundering applause greeted the final curtain as Monsters Under the Bed came to a close. Cheers and enthusiastic shouts filled the small auditorium. The actors took their bows.
    From the last row of the tiny theater, a playhouse shared by several fringe theater companies and loaned to the Strolling Players for their performances, Desdemona surveyed the crowd of youthful theater patrons.
    The too-adult expressions of wariness, cynicism, and uncertainty that had marked their young faces earlier, were gone, at least for the moment. The magic of the theater had enveloped them for a short while, giving the children a respite from the overwhelming stresses that plagued their lives.
    “At least I understood this play better than I did the last one I saw,” Stark said. “No flyswatters.”
    Desdemona laughed. “Congratulations. You’re on your way to becoming a real theater buff.”
    “Want to go backstage? I’ve, uh, got passes.”
    “I’m impressed. You must have connections.”
    “I know a couple of people.” Stark reached for her hand.
    They waited until the herd of youngsters had raced up the center aisle to the small lobby. Desdemona took the opportunity to edge closer to Stark. She savored the strength in his grip. There was something very solid and sure about him, she thought. He might prove inflexible from time to time,